


Do You Wanna Die?

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Series: Ready For The Siege [22]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-11 17:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4445462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye





	1. Taste of Magic

Marissa Tourney came from somewhere in China, as far as Wanda Maximoff knew, but her magic skill came from all over the world. She was fairly vague about where she had learned things—China, Tibet, Siberia, Thailand, Romania, Lithuania and Greece all were namedropped but without any timeline or consistency as far as Wanda could tell—and she was also very vague about who she studied with. Her friend hadn't felt comfortable having Wanda in her home or even in her magic salon. "You aren't a true practitioner, child," the old woman had said in a rather condescending manner. "Your gift was forced upon you. You were _changed,_ altered, as if you could become one of the greats. No, I will not be party to such abominations as that." The woman all but spat at her, and it took a great amount of self control not to let her powers rise to her hands and blast the woman out of existence.

So Marissa brought Wanda into her own apartment in TriBeCa, complaining loudly all the while that it was hardly what she wanted to do in her downtime. But Wanda held power, manufactured or inherent, and to let it run loose was reckless and irresponsible. "I may be many things," she had muttered under her breath, "but reckless isn't one of them."

"I don't know what you know," Marissa said at their very first session, sitting in the middle of her airy and luxurious living room. "We're going to start from the beginning. You ought to go through things very quickly, and we'll get to the harder magic soon."

But the vocabulary she used was different from what Wanda had learned in Asgard, and the viewpoint was different. Marissa was big on manipulating energy and talked about demons and dimensions and artifacts of power. Queen Frigga had focused on the shapes of spells, the intent and power in the world around them. Not necessarily completely opposing viewpoints, but because the approach had been different, Wanda hadn't been sure where to start. It left her frustrated and angry, and a few of Marissa's water glasses had shattered across the room. The woman compressed her lips unhappily, and grumbled something about strange needing to get back home. The phrasing made no sense to Wanda, who suddenly missed Loki.

This method was slow and frustrating for them both. Wanda was intimidated by the older woman, and didn't suggest for a few weeks that she show Marissa what she _could_ do, and what she was learning from Loki. The woman obviously didn't like Loki, and Wanda didn't fault her for it. The man was an asshole even on a good day, but on the good days he could exert a little charm that took the edge off the asshole-ness. Marissa had gotten full on douchebag asshole piece of shit Loki, and he still hadn't apologized properly for it.

Wanda went through her repertoire of spells that she had learned on Asgard and with Loki, taking care not to destroy anything else in Marissa's home. She concentrated hard on each spell, using only the smallest flick of her fingers to send off the spells. Marissa watched her closely, face an expressionless mask.

But when she was done, she saw Marissa nod sharply. "I see. I think I know what our problem is now. It would probably be easiest for you if I use the terminology you learned. It really doesn't matter, but it's more to make it easier to discuss the craft with others. Maybe that's why some of the elders didn't want to work with you. They'd rather spare themselves the headache."

Frowning, Wanda considered her words. "It's a headache to work with me like this?"

"Think of it this way... We're speaking English. I know a multitude of languages. But if I learned something in another, say Mandarin, and I'm more comfortable with how they phrase words, then have to translate it over into English to tell you what I'm thinking about. And if your first language isn't English—"

"Which it isn't," Wanda murmured.

"—then you see the difficulty we're having. It's a matter of getting our language right. Most spells in this world are discussed a certain way. Not because it has to be in order to work, but that's the convention that sprung up with practitioners here. Some other dimensions use similar language, mostly because of the intervention and travel between them. But no one has ever gone to Asgard and come back after studying magic."

"So I'd be the first."

"Yes. Though I've heard tell of their sorceresses coming to Earth and wreaking havoc."

Wanda thought of Lorelei and the little she knew of Amora. "Not wrapped too tight, either of them. One is dead and one is locked up."

"What are their magicians like?"

"They don't really see themselves as magicians. It's not magic like you talk about. It's like a special skill that only few people would even be capable of doing, and then there are different kinds of magic. Not all of it even has a visible component."

It led to Wanda describing the concepts of _seidr, galdr, spá_ and runic magicks as best as she could, admitting she did best with _seidr_ and _spá._ Much of healing magic involved runes, her weakest point. "I thought about cheating and tweaking the _spá,"_ she admitted with a sigh, "but that would be horrible."

"Because you'd be altering someone's fate."

"And depending on what I did, it could be their alternate fates, too." Wanda lifted her hands, scarlet power curling around her palms like a flame. "I probably have about the same finesse as a sledgehammer right now. So I wouldn't just heal them in this particular timeline by changing the _spá_ and making it look like I wanted it to. I could possibly weave alternate timelines into this one, changing who they are as a person, what they were going to be... I could ruin everything."

"A bit dramatic, don't you think?" Marissa asked archly.

"You have three timelines that I can see," Wanda blurted, making Marissa freeze in place. "If I healed you that way, for example, what timeline am I going to affect? I may try to affect only the one you're in, but I might change all three."

"You... You see...?"

"Here. Let me see if I can show you a visual. If I remember how Queen Frigga did this..." She reached out in front of her, as if plucking threads from the air. As her fingers closed together, something shimmered within a red field surrounding her hands. It was a finely woven thread, wavering in time with Marissa's halting breath. "There. If I magnify it..." She loosened her grip with her left hand, then wiggled her fingers to expand the view. Her concentration didn't waver at all, so she didn't see how wide Marissa's eyes got.

Wanda pulled along the visualization of the thread so that the different breaks and reweavings in the thread were plainly visible. "There could be more, but this is what I see. Three lifetimes, end to end, woven into each other, but with sharp breaks. So I could really screw things up without even trying, and I wouldn't want to do that."

"I suppose," Marissa began, voice hoarse, "it goes without saying that I don't want you talking about this with anyone else."

She blinked in surprise and let the vision of the _spá_ fade away. "Uh. Yeah. Sure. I mean, I'm sure there must be a good reason for that."

Marissa stared at her long enough for Wanda to wonder if she was going to be killed. "I had to change everything to escape people that were after me. I would rather not do it again."

Wanda's mouth snapped shut with an audible click. "Sure. Sure, I get it. I understand. I won't say anything about it."

"Thank you."

"I... I can teach you that. Seeing it, I mean. If you're capable of recognizing the _spá."_

Suddenly there was a flurry of emotion on Marissa's features. Fear, longing, gratitude and hope warred for supremacy before the implacable mask fell back into place. "I think, young one, that we have much to teach each other."

***

James was off with Steve and Wanda had chosen to stay to study with Marissa longer than planned. It left Loki out of sorts, and he found Natasha sitting in the common room reading a book. Wandering into the room, he sat beside her and plucked it from her hands. Russian poetry, which surprised him. "Awaiting your lover?"

She rolled her eyes at him, not impressed with his antics. "Contrary to your belief, not everything is about sex."

"No, it could be about power."

Natasha blew out a breath and leaned back. "Are you that bored that you'd pick a fight with me?"

"Maybe."

"There are better ways to deal with boredom."

"I couldn't think of any other."

Natasha plucked her book back from his hands and snapped it shut. "I suppose you're not inventive enough, then."

"Oh? Do you have something in mind?"

Her lips curled sensuously. "I am particularly inventive, you know that."

It took no time at all to get to her suite. "Is this part of our deal?" Loki asked once Natasha shut the door to her bedroom.

"No. This is just because."

Loki couldn't help but grin smugly at her. "Oh, really?"

"Yes, really," Natasha replied. She walked forward, a cocky saunter in her step that set his mouth to watering. "Most of the toys are in Astoria. All the really fun ones, anyway," she purred. "I may have a wand and a vibrator in the bedside table."

"Or I may conjure something," Loki offered, his mouth going dry as she slid her hands along his chest. By the Norns, she was utterly gorgeous, and all his. Well, not always his, but right now he didn't have to share her with anyone.

One of her hands slid down to his groin, cupping his cock as she smirked. "So eager. You want me to fuck your ass? Want me to make you come screaming my name?" she purred.

Yes. By all that was holy in the Nine Realms, yes.

She kissed him fiercely, tongue in his mouth, her palm abrading the crotch of his trousers. He clutched her close, nerve endings electrified, and he may have melted at her touch. He certainly would never say that he _swooned_ at the promise in her kiss. That was so undignified and very _argr._

It was hard to remember that when she undid his trousers and pushed him toward the bed. Her mouth was hot and wet over his cock, quickly bringing him to hardness. He wanted her sopping wet over his mouth, gasping for her orgasm, and must have said so aloud. She pulled back long enough to gracelessly strip off her clothes and climb onto the bed with him. She straddled his face, her smooth, milk white thighs stroking his cheeks. He could smell her arousal, heady perfume he loved to breathe in, and dove right in with lips and tongue.

She groaned and panted, pulling at his thighs before lowering herself down to her elbows and taking him into her mouth.

She was so much better at edging than he was—Loki had no patience for this, not when he was hovering so close himself. He contented himself with licking into her, sucking at her clit and fucking her with his tongue until she growled and clutched at his thigh tightly, unable to suck on his cock. This was real, not feigned, and the delicious bite of her nails digging into his flesh threatened to have him coming right there. He was able to cast a spell keeping his cock hard for her until she no longer needed it. That let him dive between her thighs again, savoring her sweet nectar, making her come again.

He was working on her third orgasm when the bedroom door opened. Only James would dare enter her suite unannounced, and sure enough, there he was, watching with dark eyes.

"Join us," he heard Natasha say, voice fracturing as Loki sucked harder on her clit. "Fuck, if the two of you are inside me at once..."

"I can oblige that," James replied in a casual enough tone. But Loki could tell that he was intrigued, turned on at the sight of Natasha on her hands and knees, Loki servicing her with his mouth, her full breasts rubbing at Loki's stomach, her cheek pressed against his thigh as she struggled for breath.

James had similar disregard for his clothing as Natasha did. Loki patted her thigh in the meantime, right before she was ready to come, making her mewl in outrage. By gesture, he had her on her back, legs splayed wide for him. Loki thought James would approach her mouth as he thrust into her, but was startled by the feel of a metal hand at his back, pushing gently. "Lean forward," James said.

For the most fleeting of moments, Loki feared that James would fuck him. But with Loki leaning forward, James lifted Natasha's hips—and by extension, Loki's – so he could line up his cock with the entrance of her ass. She moaned, long and lusty, as James slid inside, cock slicked with the lube that Loki hadn't realized he obtained.

The three of them awkwardly had to coordinate movements, until Natasha was clawing at both of their thighs and moaning, tightening all of her inner muscles. Loki groaned himself, glad he'd thought of the sex magic. If he hadn't cast it already, he would come right then like a callow youth in his first bedding. James dropped his forehead to Loki's shoulder, a muffled "Oh Christ" reaching his ears. James' hands were on Natasha's thighs, allowing him to drive deeply into her. That let Loki feel confident about this position, at least. James was honorable, and wouldn't "slip" or betray that trust.

Loki fucked into Natasha through her orgasm and his. He was building up to another one, grunting in Allspeak about how wonderful she felt beneath him. James was shuddering behind him, breath fractured, a low whine deep in his throat.

"Come for me, James," Natasha said breathlessly, arching her back and raking her nails down his thigh. She let out a groan as Loki moved one hand to massage her clit. "Fuck, I'm close again. Come, come, just everybody come," she moaned.

"Yes, mistress," Loki snarked, unable to help himself.

She swatted at him, arching and clenching down hard on the two cocks inside her. James managed to grunt "Fuck" as his rhythm stuttered and stopped, a shiver rolling its way through him. Loki managed a few more thrusts before he ended the spell on himself and came.

They lay in a tangled heap of limbs afterward, sticky and not even caring about the sheets getting dirty. "So. Good cure for boredom?" Natasha asked, laughing a little.

"Shit, you guys were just bored?" James asked, lifting his head off of Natasha's shoulder.

"I was the bored one," Loki admitted. "She was reading poetry."

James teased one of Natasha's nipples. "This is better than poetry."

"This _is_ poetry," Loki declared with a grin. "I believe there are a few rather filthy epic poems I could recite for you, if you like. Fuel further times we take to bed."

Natasha ran her fingers through his hair, nails scratching his scalp lightly. Loki leaned into her touch, smiling at her hazy, content expression. Oh, yes, she liked that idea. James seemed to as well. He flicked his fingers across the nipple that James wasn't playing with, making her breath catch. She was sensitive to touch at this point, and he was so very tempted to feast upon her slick folds, even if he might taste himself. He compromised by sliding his fingers between her legs and swallowing her moans with a kiss. James moved to suck on the nipple he had been playing with, stroking her other one gently. She let her eyes fall shut, one hand on either man, her lips curling in a wide smile. "Get bored more often," she managed to say before her breath fractured and her back arched up, pushing her breast further into James' mouth.

It was a quieter orgasm, her body shaking and her moans soft and barely audible. Her body was utterly boneless afterward, limbs splayed and flopping about when she tried to grasp hold of the two of them. "My wonderful boys," she murmured, sounding almost sleepy.

Loki licked her lips and curled up beside her. He would accept anything she wanted to call him.

James leaned over and kissed her softly. "I was going to ask if you wanted to see a movie, but I think your answer right now would be no," he said, his smile easy to hear in his voice.

"I'm not moving ever again," she replied, laughing.

"Shall I bring you dinner in bed, then?" Loki murmured, nuzzling her neck.

"That would be nice. I don't get a chance to be lazy too often."

"Dinner in bed it is, then," Loki declared, nipping at her shoulder.

"And after, I'll wash you off in the bath," James added, stroking her flat stomach. "Among other things," he added with a wicked, saucy grin. He must have had a good day out with Steve.

It sounded like a wonderfully decadent evening, and was right up Loki's alley.

***

Darcy plopped down on the couch beside Clint in the common theater room. He had hearing aids in, thank goodness, because otherwise the sound of the movie would have carried to an adjoining floor. "Hey, sexy," she said, grinning as she twisted to sit sideways, her legs across his lap. He dutifully started massaging her thighs and feet. "Must've been a tough day if you're in here watching Lilo and Stitch."

"That is a perfectly valid movie to watch regardless of my mood," he replied.

"But you're in a bad mood," she guessed.

"Not bad, exactly," he said, leaning forward over her legs to pause the movie. "Just long. And frustrating. Really frustrating."

"I thought you were just going to do your exercise-y stuff today."

"I started off that way, but then I got a call from Sam asking for help, and then I took a bus to Brooklyn to go to the VA."

Darcy frowned. "Why would he need your help?"

"One of his group members was spouting something, ranting and raving, really, and he wasn't sure if it was actually classified information for SHIELD or not."

"No joke?"

"Nope."

"Was it?"

"Technically, no," Clint said, though his expression was drawn. "But it was still pretty shitty stuff to have to discuss and deal with, and I wound up playing intermediary and diplomat for SHIELD. And man, that is _not_ a job I ever wanted. I'm a guy with a bow. Maybe a sniper rifle. I don't want the interpersonal shit."

"That bad?" Darcy asked, a sympathetic frown on her face.

"Military guys with military grade secrets that could potentially destabilize whatever plans SHIELD has in place to trap international baddies. So yeah, that bad."

Ignoring the bitter sarcasm because she knew it wasn't directed at her, she swung her legs off of his lap and leaned in to give him a deep kiss. "You are the best boyfriend ever."

"You mean, aside from the sex thing?"

"No, I mean in _ever._ You are a genuinely good guy and honestly want to do good. That seems like a rarity sometimes."

"Or we're both cynical as hell."

Darcy's lips quirked. "That, too." She snuggled up close to him and threw her arms around his neck. "How about we go for some really epic snuggling and kissing?"

Clint grinned back at her and wrapped his arms around her. "I like the sound of this."

"If you really want, you can finish the movie."

"It's on Bluray, I think I can watch the rest later," he murmured, drawing her down for another kiss. They continued until Jarvis alerted them with a beeping sound. "Aw, dammit."

"What?" Darcy asked, breathless, glasses knocked askew.

"That's my alarm for the archery lesson I was going to give this afternoon."

"Oh, yeah, you mentioned that. Am I still invited?"

"Of course you are."

"So, let's go. I might've mentioned to Jane it was a group bonding activity, if only to get her ass out of the lab. I swear, she's practically glued to her chair analyzing the data streaming in from that satellite."

"Aw, you're like a baby Machiavelli," Clint teased, getting up. He tugged Darcy up to her feet and then dropped a kiss onto her nose.

"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good," she said with a grin. "At least, hear Jane tell it, I'm up to no good. She'd crunch numbers all day, fall asleep at her desk, then wake up and start it all over again. She's gone out of the lab a lot more with me around."

"Let's continue that tradition, shall we?"

Just about everyone in the tower showed up for the archery lesson. Clint chose compound bows and arrowheads that were blunted enough to prevent the others from harming each other. Targets were soft foam, allowing the blunted edges to sink into them if they hit. Natasha laughed when she did pretty well, though she didn't hit the bullseye most of the time. Loki, Sif and Thor had to get used to handling a compound bow, as it was slightly different from the ornate longbows or recurve bows they were used to on Asgard, but easily got the hang of it and started a competition amongst themselves. James ignored them, and helped Clint correct Jane's and Darcy's stances and arm position. Bruce hadn't wanted to come with them, but Jane had insisted. He even let Natasha and Clint reposition his arms a few times when he was holding the bow too awkwardly to really pull back on the string and release the arrows.

Sif was the ultimate winner of the competition, and nudged Thor toward Jane. She wandered over to Natasha in the range, and the two of them had some friendly banter as Thor flirted with Jane. Loki was obviously feeling a bit left out, but announced he tired of the activity and would rather find his student.

Darcy felt a little sorry for him by that point. She hadn't thought she would, given his past attempts to take over New York and manipulate others. As standoffish as he could be, she wasn't finding some evil mastermind at work. That surprised her. He seemed lonely when no one was looking, a charming and prideful mask slotting into place when someone was. As someone that was easily overlooked in a room full of heroes and celebrities, Darcy could see the difference.

"He's just... sad," she told Clint later, when they were ensconced in his suite. "Not like boo hoo, I'm gonna cry kind of sad. I mean, as in the pathetic loser kind of sad. Which of course would make him want to skin me alive if he heard me say such a thing, I'm sure. But he acts like the nerd left over at the end of choosing teams for volleyball, and that's just sad."

"It doesn't make him any less dangerous," Clint pointed out, pulling her into his lap.

"I would never mistake him for a fluffy kitten," Darcy announced loftily.

"I don't think I've ever heard him be compared to a kitten before."

"Because he's not one. He's not cute or cuddly or sweet enough to make you want to smoosh it to bits or make videos to post on the internet. You, I totally would, if I wouldn't be violating any number of indecency laws. I'd probably get smacked for distributing porn, you look that good."

She nipped at his mouth as he laughed, pulling away before he could deepen the kiss further. "I do like this, you know," she murmured. "Just kissing, I mean. You're a damn good kisser."

"Well, good. Let me practice a little more on you..."

"Your lines are so lame," Darcy declared loftily. "But fine, whatever." She grinned at him before leaning in for a kiss again. It was wonderful to have this quiet time together, without any disasters interrupting.

Which of course meant there was an interruption, in the form of Tony and Pepper stumbling through the common areas laughing. They were both dressed in the tightly woven clothing that Tony wore under his Iron Man suit. It resembled long underwear and had sensors embedded in it for Jarvis to pick up, and Darcy frowned at Pepper in similar gear. Her laughter was giddy, and she had Tony's arm in hand. "I finally understand it," she said, eyes sparkling. He was just laughing, as if pleased with the joy that Pepper was taking in _something._

"Oh, look!" Tony said, seeing the two of them peeking over the couch. "Mommy and Daddy woke up the kids."

Pepper's expression didn't dampen in the slightest, and Darcy thought that the unrestrained happiness was a good look for her. Usually she looked all business and tense in the halls at SI or when calling HR for personnel files. "Oh. Hi."

Well, that was particularly lackluster for Pepper. Darcy gave her a lame wave. "Hi. Out?"

"Yeah." Her eyes sparkled as if she had a secret. "It's a beautiful night."

Beyond the common areas was the launching and landing areas for Iron Man and the smallest Quinjet for the Avengers. Darcy had a feeling that Tony had taken her for a ride. Possibly in the innuendo sense, too.

Damn, maybe the kissing thing wasn't quite cutting it for her, especially since she hadn't done anything solo in a while, either.

"Well, you guys go have fun," Darcy said, shooing them off. The two of them looked at each other and left through the kitchen, most likely to their penthouse apartment. "Weirdos," she said affectionately, leaning back into Clint. "Where were we?"

"Probably heading back to my place or yours," he pointed out with a grin. "Interruptions like that kind of ruin the mood, don't you think?"

Darcy's brain shorted out at the way he grinned at her, and she found herself nodding. She could ask him what he thought the two of them were up to later. Gossiping about team members and her boss was all well and good, but paled in comparison to how much she liked the kissing part of their relationship. "Good plan," she said, getting to her feet. "My place is closer." And maybe she could figure out if he was averse to watching her masturbate.

It turned out, he wasn't.

***

Loki wasn't the only one able to create portals out of magic, but he was the only one willing to show Wanda how to do it in a manner that she could understand. He seemed to have calmed down in the week since her last ineffectual attempt; most of the time, Wanda could open up a small hole in space and time. It allowed her to talk to Pietro and see how his sword fighting skills were coming along, as if the portal was a small window. Porthole was possibly more accurate a term for what she could make. She could pass along messages and small sized objects; as a test, Pietro had given her a silver and ruby filigree necklace that Maeginbiorn had made. It was imbued with protection spells that one of their fellow altered children was working on. "I think he's going to stay in Asgard," Pietro said. "He likes working with Maeginbiorn, and they're talking about working on spells and jewelry like that one," Pietro had said, nodding toward the necklace. "It would be a whole new market for them."

"I'm glad they're happy," Wanda had told him, meaning it. Her smile turned wistful. "They don't remember anything different than the labs. I barely remember Mama, and I know we never knew who our father was. But it's so tempting sometimes to look into the _spá,_ try to see who she was, what she was like, maybe find out who our father was. Why he abandoned us. If he did," Wanda added with a sigh. "The Baron was full of lies."

"He was," Pietro agreed. He peered at her cautiously, as if afraid of her answer. "Why are you thinking of this now?"

"It was a conversation I had with one of my tutors here about magic and the history of magic and all of that rot I usually curse. But the Romani have always supposedly had magic, but it was the fortunetelling and pretend variety, to hear her tell it. I remember nothing of being Romani, not really. Most of my memories of that time are gone. We were old enough that we _should_ remember at least some of it, right? Why don't I remember it?"

"I don't, either," Pietro admitted, looking away. "I think the experiments did something to us. Not just the power, I mean it did something to our memories." He looked back at her. "Some things, I remember very clearly. Other memories of that time... not at all. As if it was simply erased. So I wouldn't be surprised if they took those memories from us, as best as they could."

"Because I'm sure I would have fought them. We would have," she corrected, biting her lip. "If they really had hurt Mama, we would have fought, right?"

"I know I would have," Pietro told her solemnly.

Wanda pressed her lips together unhappily and turned away with a sigh. "So much stolen from us… Only now am I beginning to understand how much they really took."

"So... Other than these things getting you angry," Pietro began testing the edge of her portal with his finger. He hissed and pulled it away from the edge, sucking on it. "That's hot, Wanda. Like, I think it burned me."

"Don't touch the edges, then," Wanda replied in a huff, not feeling sorry for him at all. "I'm manipulating time and space, dummy. That takes energy, and it's got to go somewhere."

"So you're frying reality, is that it?" Pietro had snarked.

Wanda opened her mouth to say something cutting, but then snapped her mouth shut. "Yeah. I think that's a good way of putting it. Like a magnifying glass over a bug."

Which, now that she thought about it, meant she just needed to make a bigger metaphorical magnifying glass in order to open a person-sized portal. The person-sized portal she meant to make made the small porthole ones, after all. It was just a question of magnitude.

Feeling almost giddy, Wanda had to repress the urge to snap the portal shut and show off for Loki. "Let's see if I can change a portal that's already open," she said, feeling the adrenaline rush through her. This would be kind of like science, right? She heard Jane talking to Bruce at dinner about testing things out, and it made sense. Darcy said the same was true in social sciences and political science. Repetition was the key to prove a theory right or wrong.

Levering more power through her chest – she really had no other way of describing the sensation of her magic and how she could focus it – Wanda paid careful attention to her portal and started to prize it open. Her focus had been about as large as herself, but now she tried to picture forcing it open to Hulk parameters. It probably would have been easier to simply close this one down and start over, rather than reworking the heated edges of her portal, but she was determined to make this work. She could alter the _spá,_ goddammit, she could do this.

Slowly, then with fits and starts, Wanda forced the portal wider and wider. Pietro's stunned expression was worth the mental strain, and she finally gave up when the portal's diameter reached from just over her head to around her waist. It was _exhausting,_ and Loki made it seem too damn easy.

"Ha," Wanda said, triumphant. "I can do this, see?"

Pietro blinked. "Wow. I didn't know you could do any of that. The magic stuff is pretty amazing." He grinned at her, pride in every feature. _"You_ are pretty amazing."

"Yeah, I am, aren't I?" she returned, feeling heady with glee. _I did it!_ she thought, smile widening into a grin. "I'm pretty damn cool, and don't you forget it."

Laughing, her twin brother shook his head. "Wanda, I'm sure no one will _ever_ forget it."

***

Just when Selene thought that this pathetic realm was good for nothing but taunting sips of power, there came a bright burst of energy. It took her a moment to realize it truly was from Midgard, a world otherwise fairly useless and pathetic when it came to magic. The people there really had no idea how best to use their Runestaff. They likely wouldn't even know it had been drained and emptied; no one seemed to realize that the rash of deaths on their world was anything more sinister than death.

Perhaps she would stay near Midgard after all, and devour its people before its Runestaff.

Selene floated in the Void, dreaming of the taste of magic with a smile on her face.

***  
***


	2. Practice

Levitation spells were easy. Shadow spells were easy. Energy blasts and orbs and halos were just pretty, and Wanda loved doing those. She could visualize and manipulate the _spá_ like small children played a game of cat's cradle. Using fire spells, Wanda could ignite flammable objects. Partitioning or removing air from a particular space didn't require as much concentration as deflecting objects or stopping projectiles in midair. It was amusing to use her gift for some light "telekinetic" abilities, like opening doors, exploding objects, creating force fields and lifting objects. The force fields and her energy barriers could deflect magical attacks, though she wasn't sure how strong her ability was.

Portals, however, were going to be the death of her.

Loki actually took pity on Wanda and decided to change up the practice session for the moment. "You have improved," he began. "But perhaps you are overworking yourself and losing the shape of the spell. Let us try something different as a rest."

"Like what?" she asked, frustration evident in her tone.

"Copying spells." She seemed bored, so he added "Including people."

Wanda sat at attention for that one, making Loki smirk in amusement. All right, Frigga would possibly say he was torturing the poor girl, drawing out her education this way. But it was far more interesting for them both, and kept challenging her skills. She was actually quite gifted in the _seidr,_ which was a pleasant surprise.

Making a copy of himself to sit beside Wanda, Loki felt the split in his consciousness from the two copies. He could ignore it at this point, and went through the basics of crafting the spell and drawing out the copy from the physical body. "It's like tying a bit of the _spá_ to an illusion in order to give it weight. Only for a copy of a person like this, a copy of _you,_ tie a piece of your own _spá_ to the image."

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"Depends on the copies you make and what you do with them," he replied with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Why do you seem to make everything dirty?"

"Why is it that you assume I am?" Loki asked archly, though of course there were those kinds of applications to such a spell. "I have used such a spell for intimidation purposes, following others about unseen, assisting myself in research..."

"Okay, okay, how does this work?"

First they went through the basics of a copying spell, using inanimate objects for her trial runs. It took some time for her to grasp that, which was frustrating for them both. Loki had to leave her practicing it overnight, and was irritated at how little anyone would praise him for showing restraint at not yelling at her for the incompetence. It was how he was trained by some of his mo— Frigga's contemporaries. Frigga, of course, only used cutting remarks to make him feel small and churlish for not understanding tasks immediately.

Of course the next day Wanda did a better job of it. She must have been practicing relentlessly overnight to do so well on mimicking books and movies and even a bowl of fruit. Loki opened the books and sure enough, there was text matching the original item flawlessly, the movies played in the bluray player, the fruit tasted exactly the same. The girl preened under his genuine approval, which made him feel better. He wasn't feeling guilty over his anger, not really. It was more that he thought this was terribly easy. Why wasn't it the same for her?

But then, he was too frustrated with the _spá_ or some of the runes, so perhaps it was the same way with her approach to magic.

Wanda worked on copying her own image first, which was surprisingly difficult for her. The initial copies should have been simple illusions, especially after the level of detail she had gotten in the inanimate objects. But her face was ghostly in its smooth pallor, empty eye sockets and gaping, lipless and toothless mouth. She actually nearly screamed at the sight of it, staggering back into Loki with her arms up as if to protect herself from the illusion. The ghostly copy lifted an arm up, black smoke trailing down from the upraised arm, reaching out for her. Twitching his arm impatiently, he dispelled her illusion and turned his attention to the shaking girl.

 _"Bibaxt,"_ she whispered, trembling in Loki's arms. "I remember that. _I remember that._ I don't remember much of my girlhood, but I remember that much."

"What does that even mean?" he asked, exasperated.

"Very bad luck. Very, very bad luck. You don't mess with the spirits. _Ever._ It is such bad luck, something I probably can't even counter..."

Loki huffed impatiently and bodily moved her to face him. "You make your own luck, little witch. You scared yourself, which is possibly quite the accomplishment out of all you have seen so far. It means you can terrify _others,_ without necessarily having to rely on fighting skills you may lack."

Shivering a little, Wanda shook her head. "Pietro fought harder. He learns how to battle on Asgard even now."

"You must be clever and catch opponents off guard. That little spectre, horrifying as it is to you, can also terrify others. But you can't let it stop you from learning what you need to do. You need to make a copy of yourself. It doesn't seem to spring fully formed for you."

"No. Even the objects, I needed to do an outline and fill it in later."

"Well, then. No wonder your body was so unfinished. Try making it without looking at it. Try to sense its form instead."

Wanda sighed, but did as he suggested. Loki watched her carefully, seeing the way her fingers twitched as she tried to control herself and her mental image of her copy. The gestures helped her focus her spells, much like some practitioners needed verbal cues. This was at least less of a giveaway when she cast, but Loki couldn't help but feel a bit superior for not needing such a thing with his magic.

Magic was will made manifest, after all. If anything, he had an excess of will for magic. It was for everything else that it all fell apart.

Slowly, painfully, the copy of Wanda filled out and really came to life, no longer looking like a wraith intent on sucking out souls. It looked exactly like her, down to the wrinkles in her clothing and the small rip in the seam at the hem of her shirt. She looked at it critically, lips pursed. "It looks like a wax model in a museum."

"Tie it to your _spá,"_ he instructed. "Then it will move and speak like you."

"Will I feel it?" she asked hesitantly. "Will it hurt?"

Loki frowned, trying to think about the first time had done this particular combination of spells. "I hardly notice when I do it now, and I can have five or six copies without difficulty. I don't think it does anything, but I can't even remember the first time I have done this. So I don't know what to tell you."

Taking a deep breath and then letting it out, Wanda nodded. "Thank you for being honest."

"Why wouldn't I be? It does you no favors to minimize the risks involved with magic."

"Most of your mother's handmaidens didn't want to scare the little ones, I guess."

Loki didn't even bristle at Frigga being called his mother. Wanda didn't mean harm by it and he wasn't ready to go into the politics of it. Yes, that was a perfectly acceptable reason for not calling her out on the misinformation.

Wanda had to flick her hands as if weaving in order to attach a fragment of her _spá_ to the copy, and she sucked in a breath. "Oh. Not painful, exactly. A twinge," she said, bringing her fist up to her chest, right over the breastbone. Her copy did the same thing, staring at her with large, almost frightened eyes. "Oh," she murmured, and her copy echoed it.

"Right now, I think she'll do everything you do," Loki said, bringing his hands to Wanda's shoulders. He massaged them gently, remembering the physical strain that spellcraft would leave in its wake for a beginner. "Over time, if this is a spell you'd like to perfect, it will be easier and easier to have her roam independently of you."

"I see through her eyes. I see me," Wanda whispered. Her copy did, too. "It's... This is weird."

"You get used to it."

"And you do this five or six times?"

"Easily. I have done up to eight, but that was uncomfortable."

Both Wandas looked at him incredulously. "Uncomfortable? I would think that's dizzy."

The echo effect of the copy mimicking Wanda's speech was amusing, but not enough that Loki would actually tell her. "Take her around with you, see if you can get accustomed to it."

That led to hilarity, as Wanda tried to maneuver both herself and her copy through doors and around tables. If she didn't hit something, her copy did, and they both winced in pain. "This _sucks,"_ Wanda hissed. Her copy did as well.

Loki didn't bother to smother his laughter this time. This also gave him a rather wicked idea for the next time he was in control of Natasha at the Astoria apartment.

***

James arrived for his monthly visit to Tony's workshop to evaluate the functioning of his metal arm. It had started with the first visit after his release from the glass walled cell, so that Tony could get a baseline reading on its functioning and fix the bent plates and venting he had damaged when he tried to smash his way through the walls. Tony had been very straightforward about his interest in the mechanics of the arm, and there was something about him that James found himself drawn to. Eventually he realized that it was because he vaguely remembered Howard Stark and his womanizing bravado as he tried to impress the Howling Commandoes. James wasn't sure how else he remembered Howard, and really didn't want to ask Tony or Steve about it. Other than Natasha or Loki, most of the others in the Tower looked at him askance when he mentioned the holes in his memory.

It was actually somewhat pleasant to visit the workshop. He didn't feel so odd to have the mechanical arm, not when there were robots around him and virtual schematics of machinery and electrical wiring everywhere. He was just a guy with a prosthetic arm, not a living weapon that had to be carefully monitored to be sure he didn't malfunction and kill everyone. Not that anyone made him feel that way, but he couldn't help but wonder if they worried about that when he wasn't in the room.

Sitting in his usual seat, he spun around on the stool and took in the workshop. It looked different somehow, but he couldn't put his finger on it right away.

Then he saw the gold armor that didn't look exactly like Iron Man. The gold was a little softer, and the frame was smaller, as if it was meant for a more delicate figure than Tony's. "Pepper," he said aloud as he realized whose armor that was.

Tony looked up from his readout of the arm's functionality and saw James' line of sight. "Yeah, actually. It's for her." He grinned as James spun around. "It's been fun watching her learn how to fly and use repulsors, aiming and all that. Kinda reminds me of when I first started out, you know? When everything was new and wonderful and the ideas..." Tony gestured an arc shape out from his temple and made a whooshing sound. "Good God, the ideas I used to have when it was a joy and not a job... You have no idea."

"So is my arm a job?"

"What? That? No. No, this is fascinating as all hell. C'mon, Bucky. This thing is a highlight of engineering and robotics. I might've updated this thing, but I kinda wish I thought of it first. But then, I didn't know too many guys that would've needed it."

He turned away from James abruptly, making him wonder if there was something else to the comment. Or maybe he felt he didn't pay enough yet because of his former arms dealing. James though that castigating himself over what others did with the weapons his company designed was just silly. He didn't do that damage. Others did. And what had he expected would happen when weapons were used? Blood was spilled, people died. That was what it was for.

"What else are you doing with my arm, then?" James asked, looking over at the schematics in front of Tony.

"Nothing that out of the ordinary today. Some of the cooling vents need cleaning, the hydraulics need topping off, and it looks like a few plates have to be hammered out a bit."

"Oh. Right. Probably when Steve landed that flying kick there."

"Flying kick?" Tony echoed.

"You know how he does that thing where he launches off the ground and kicks with both feet, his entire body straight as a board? Or spinning around as he jumps and flattens himself out? Got me good sparring yesterday. He's such a fucking meatball sometimes."

That set Tony to coughing as he tried to hide his startled laughter. "This is priceless. You are the best addition to this tower."

James nodded toward the golden armor that Pepper used. "You sure she isn't it?"

Tony's expression softened. "Well... It's a wonder why she stays with me sometimes. All we've got is each other. Once you take out the Avengers, I mean. But she doesn't see it that way. She wants to stick with me. And I'm not going to question that too hard, or else she'll come to her senses and run screaming in the opposite direction from me."

"You don't have a very flattering picture of yourself."

"I'm a partially reformed womanizing alcoholic. And let's face it, it wasn't just women and booze, it was whatever I could get my hands on, anything I could possibly self destruct from. I'm not a catch if you ignore the money."

"The inventing though..."

"Pft. How many people actually value that?"

Lifting his metal arm, James shot Tony an exasperated look. "They tell me people are not their net worth or just the skills they have. You tryin' to tell me different?"

"I'm not the pep talk guy. You want Pepper, I think. She's good at that part. And surprisingly good at flying. Maybe it's all the yoga she does. Her balance is exquisite, and nothing seems to throw her off."

James realized that Tony was uncomfortable with that line of discussion, so he followed the man's lead and deflected to Pepper. "So. You're Iron Man. Is she Iron Woman? Or Gold Woman, since hers is more yellowy?"

"Rescue, actually," Tony replied.

"Huh. I like it."

Tony's shoulders relaxed. It wasn't a loosening most would have noticed, but Tony carried his stresses in his shoulders and neck. James knew where to look, and by now that Tony only pretended not to care what people thought of him. He even cared what James thought of him, when that really shouldn't have been a consideration for him.

"You know what? Why don't I tweak a few things?"

"Tony, no."

"What? The cooling system is stupid, you know that. A few coolant variations, altering how the plates move against each other... I can make this ten times more efficient than it is."

"Works fine. Doesn't hurt much, I can do what I need to—"

"Doesn't hurt much?"

"Metal on bone, tendons wrenched out of place, whatever else is in there... Look. I'm used to it, okay? I know how this works, what I'm capable of. You make it lighter and faster, it could throw off my whole game."

"You practice daily. You'd get it back in no time."

James sighed. "Not everything needs a new upgrade just because you can do it."

"I design new armor all the time."

"I don't need a new arm."

Blowing out an irritated breath, Tony threw up his hands in exasperation. "Here I am, trying to improve your lot in life... _Fine,_ then. But I reserve the right to tinker with the design and institute it if you ever bang that one up to kingdom come."

"Deal." James wagged his arm at Tony. "How about fixing what's here before you drool over plans you're only starting to think of?"

Tony grumbled but went to work. Honestly, James glad for the help, but found it irritating that Tony could never outright say what he wanted to.

Then again, he supposed he had been in the same position until this past thaw.

***

Darcy was shocked when Jane wasn't in her lab and Bruce had no idea where she was. "It's seven thirty! She's always in the lab!"

"Thor's back," Bruce pointed out mildly. "She shouldn't always be in the lab."

"Good point." She leaned in and gave Bruce a hug. "What about you? Sitting all lonely in a lab? I don't like the idea of that."

"It's safer that way," Bruce replied with a diffident shrug.

Not fooled in the slightest, Darcy nodded knowingly. "She broke your heart, didn't she?"

"What? No! Betty isn't like that at all!"

"Total skank, then?"

"Absolutely not. She's honorable and loyal to a fault."

"Ah. So that's it."

Bruce looked at her warily. "So what's it?"

"Loyal to a fault. You think you're protecting her, don't you?" Darcy asked, poking his arm in much the same manner she did to Jane if she was being dense on not-science matters. Bruce gave her a mulish look but didn't answer, so Darcy impulsively gave him a hug. "Dude, you are an awesome guy with a lot more going on in a positive way than you think. Just give her a call. I think anybody here will vouch for you."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

"You think she's moved on?"

"I know she has."

O-kay. That sounded a bit like a creeper. Unless it was his own wishful thinking. "You know that for sure, then?"

"It's been _years_ since I last contacted her. She can do a lot better than me."

"Pft. That's for her to decide. I think Jane has her number. I hear she's awesome at radiation and biomedical research or something."

"Darcy..."

"No, really. Because Jane gets excited over very few things, you know. And Betty Ross is one of the people that makes her get stars in her eyes. It's very cute, you've seen how she gets. Just promise me you'll call her? Because you're not always out there saving the world, and you deserve better than sitting in an empty lab with a computer full of numbers. You deserve to be happy, Bruce. Not mostly-happy, but really-happy."

He looked touched and utterly surprised by her statement. "I-I'll think about it."

"Okay. And if Jane for whatever reason _doesn't_ have her number, I'm sure I can find it somewhere on the internet, even if it's just an office number at wherever she's working now."

"If I call her, I'll get her number. I can do that much," he said, a wry tone in his voice.

Bingo. He totally kept track of her. Darcy grinned, sure Bruce would eventually call her. "Fantastic," she said, meaning it. "Now I just need to track down Jane and see if she's not in some sweaty game of limbo with Thor."

Bruce winced a little at the matter of fact tone in Darcy's voice. "Did not need that visual."

"Gonna call Betty, huh?" Darcy replied with a grin.

"You and Clint deserve each other," Bruce said instead, shooing her away.

Darcy obliged and started going through the common areas. Whatever else she might want people think, she didn't intentionally crowd people in their private places. She wasn't _that much_ into everyone's business.

Jane and Thor were not caught up in any torrid embrace worthy of a romance novel cover, but sitting with their heads touching in one of the dens, scattered notebooks, pens and Jane's beloved TI-85 on the table in front of them. Ooh, their hands were clasped, fingers interlaced, and Jane's lips were curled in a delighted smile. Thor only had his eyes for her. Hey, look at that. Maybe the science was their flirting, in which case, rock on.

But Jane spotted her out of the corner of her eye as Darcy was about to beat a hasty retreat. "I'm sorry!" Darcy squeaked. "I didn't mean to interrupt the sciencey prelude to sex!"

That got them both to frowning at her. Oops. They didn't unclasp their hands, at least. "We are working on some of the formulae so that Jane may use Ketilve's data from the library and Heimdall's Observatory instruments," Thor said, gesturing for her to come closer with his free hand. "It's part of my basic education, but unfortunately I am not a great scholar."

"Well, all that stuff is way over my head."

"Basic mathematics and observation of the known worlds of Yggdrasil," Thor said with a shrug. "I was not as attentive as I should have been. My attentions were more on the daring tales of my forefathers in the wars they fought, or trying to become more skilled in battle. Loki is the scholar of our household, but I understand that he may not wish to aid you."

"That's if I even asked," Jane told Darcy, rolling her eyes. "He's got his hands full with teaching Wanda magic, and I can hear the cursing through the walls."

"What? He uses lab space on your floor for that?"

"If not the common areas," Jane replied. "I've been trying to do some of the math up here."

Now there was a lovely shy ducking of her head, which meant she was doing it to spend time with Thor. Darcy heartily approved.

"The cosmos is vast and beautiful," Thor said. Oh, look, their hands were still clasped. Darcy wanted to clap her own hands and grin stupidly at them. She tamped down on that impulse and instead plunked down into a chair across the table from them. "But come. You were searching for Jane for a reason."

"Kinda personal. It's relationship stuff." She pulled a pouty face at him.

"If I may be of assistance, send for me," he told Jane, kissing her temple and getting to his feet. "I will leave you to your conversation."

There was a noise from the kitchen as Thor left the room that made Darcy jump. She turned, suddenly aware that the den lacked a door to shut. Biting her lip, she noticed Natasha heading toward the same den area with a yogurt and a book tucked under her arm.

Sighing, Darcy turned back to them, intending to defer the conversation. Then she recalled that Natasha was Clint's best friend. And was in the middle of rather complicated relationship stuff herself. "Um... Natasha? Dunno if you're really busy, but..."

"Not particularly," she said, changing course from the couch near the window to the table where they were sitting. "What's going on?"

"Relationship stuff." Darcy looked toward the open archway, biting her lip. "This is kinda weird now. I mean, I was only planning to talk to Jane about this, but..."

"Meaning it's about Clint," Natasha said. "I think you're good together."

Darcy let out a sigh as she nodded. "Okay, sorry, I'm just being weird because I never had the kind of girlfriends that I could talk to about this kind of thing before, they were all horrible judgey people in my Ph.D. program. We'd talk about where to go and stuff like that, but nothing deeply personal."

"Just take your time," Jane said, reaching across the table to clasp Darcy's hand in hers.

"It's just... You and Thor are so adorable together. And you do the science stuff. And probably a lot more than that behind closed doors."

Now Jane looked positively scandalized while Natasha snickered. "There has to be more behind closed doors," Natasha replied, laughing. "Jane doesn't strike me as an exhibitionist."

"Natasha!" Jane cried, eyes huge with surprise.

Natasha laughed again, and Darcy thought this was getting downright surreal. The infamous Black Widow was _giggling_ and sitting down for girl talk. Then again, she first met her while commiserating with Jane about relationship stuff. Perhaps there was no need to feel overly self conscious about this after all.

 _"Anyway,"_ Darcy said, cutting off Natasha's next snarky comment. "Natasha knows, and I feel like I'm violating some kind of dating code by telling you this, Jane, but Clint doesn't do the sex part."

Jane looked at Darcy blankly. "He's not interested in you? But I thought he was. I mean, I saw you two here the other night kissing like you were running out of air—"

"No!" Darcy covered her face with her hands again. "Oh my god, I'm going to have to spell it out for you and feel like a creeper. Clint doesn't like sex. Ever. With anybody. But he likes all the other stuff, the dating and the kissing and cuddling. Just not the sex part. And I do, and I don't want to get that part elsewhere because it feels like cheating even if he said it was okay and it wouldn't be. And I tried other stuff, but it just isn't the same, and I don't want him doing what he doesn't want to do because that's just gross, and this is not the kind of problem I ever thought I'd have with a guy ever."

"Well, what have you tried?" Natasha asked matter of factly.

Jane didn't look horrified, at least, but stared at her in fascination. "No sex drive at all?"

"Oh, this is awkward," Darcy said miserably.

"I may have complete lack of boundaries on this," Natasha began, her tone still even and straightforward, "but it's not awkward at all to me. I really can only make suggestions if I know exactly what the problem is. So what have you tried to do?"

Maybe it was her brisk, no nonsense tone and Jane's fascinated expression that did it, but Darcy outlined the masturbation she did alone or in front of Clint, with or without toys. She was utterly mortified by it, maybe a holdover from her mother's reticence to talk about sex _at all_ while she was growing up, even going so far as telling Darcy to ask her friends or talk with her gynecologist about the subject. Which ew, no, she had been old and not someone Darcy felt comfortable talking to about anything at all. And her friends back then had been just as clueless as she was.

"Have you considered having sex with someone in the same room as Clint? Or if that feels strange, would sex with a woman feel like it's not cheating?" Natasha asked in her same straightforward tone. Darcy goggled at her, and she simply shrugged. "I probably have a lot more experience in a great many things related to sex."

Of course she did. She was a spy, and sometimes they had to romance the target. They did in movies, anyway, and Darcy would guess that Natasha saw sex as a regular bodily function like eating or sleeping. Though there was a tightness in her voice at the last sentence that made her wonder how much Natasha actually enjoyed what she had to do in her line of work.

"Girls can be really pretty, but past that? I'm as straight as a ruler."

"This entire conversation is enlightening," Jane said in the growing silence as Natasha thought, and didn't seem to bristle at Darcy's glower at her.

"You're not helping," Darcy told her.

"Of course I am. I'm listening. I don't have a lot of expertise in sex, either solo or with someone else," Jane told her. "I'm sure we can research this. There would be plenty of websites or books about it or something, right? It can't be that hard to find. Or if you feel weird about it, I'm sure we could go to Asgard and consult Ketilve. There might be something in the archives..."

"Oh my god, I am not going to Asgard for sex advice," Darcy snapped.

"They're rather vanilla and rigidly polarized on what's appropriate anyway," Natasha said dryly. "Trust me on that one."

Darcy gaped at her. "There's a story there. There's lots of stories there."

"Of course there are," Natasha said sweetly, lips twisting into a bit of a smirk. "I'm sure you've talked about this with Clint."

"Of course. He's okay with me going out on the side, but I'm the one that doesn't like the idea."

"Well, there's the threesome that isn't," Natasha began.

"Never did that, probably wouldn't," Darcy interrupted. "Isn't that weird? Too many arms and legs to keep track of. I mean, it's hot in movies or romance novels, but that's just fake."

"It's just a matter of coordination and communication," Natasha said with a shrug. "And of course making sure everyone has a good time." She smiled a little wider at Darcy's gape. "There is possibly very little on a purity test that I haven't done."

Jane leaned in a little closer almost in unison with her words, Darcy noticed. Huh. Maybe she and Thor were interested in more than vanilla sex together. Aw, that would be so cute to quiz Jane about later.

"So, knowing Clint... What would you suggest?"

"You like dirty talk?" Natasha asked after a moment's thought.

Darcy blinked. "I guess? I haven't had boyfriends good at it before."

Natasha gave her a very filthy grin, and Darcy could see how she was able to charm the pants out of anyone, male or female. "I have an idea, but it involves a little spell work. Asgardians don't have formal sex magic, but there are wonderful ways to corrupt spells. I'm thinking of one that will allow you to experience the sensation of whatever is described. And believe it or not, Clint is very creative with his storytelling."

 _Oh._ Is that what Clint meant by asking Loki for help? In that case, count her in. "I think I like your dirty mind," Darcy declared.

Natasha gave her a satisfied smile and tucked into her yogurt, book forgotten. Darcy wondered if Jane would smack her if she handed over her copy of the Kama Sutra. It wasn't as if she needed it at the moment, anyway.

***  
***


	3. Creativity At Work

Natasha had been very thorough in her last domme session with Loki and James. James had been reluctant to be present, despite his obvious desire for Natasha in tight black leather pants and a lace up corset with silver grommets and buckles. She took long black silk cord and tied him into a position that presented his erect cock for her perusal, both arms behind him and bound to his legs as he knelt in place on the carpet. Rope criss crossed over his chest, knots arranged in intervals to be artful and decorative. Loki had been quite impressed with it, and had expected the same for him. But instead, she had taken a riding crop and tilted his chin up from where he knelt in front of her. "You scared your student," she told him, voice deceptively bland. "Did you think I wouldn't know about that?"

"Since when do you talk to Wanda?" Loki had replied, eyes widening in surprise. "You two have nothing in common!"

The crop smacked his cheek hard, leaving a welt behind. "That was disrespectful," Natasha intoned. "You know better than that."

"What I teach her and how has nothing to do with you!"

Now her foot came up, and Loki flinched. Natasha pressed her booted foot into his shoulder, pressing him down onto the floor. The carpet was meant to be soft against bare skin, so it was still a fairly comfortable position. She smacked his back and ass with the crop ten times, quick and stinging, barely enough to welt his skin.

"We're going to have to focus on respect for you. And you're going to know that there's an audience for all of this," she told him, her domme voice in full effect.

Loki groaned when she removed her boot and stalked to the dresser. The bottom drawer held the heavy black chains, and he shivered when she dropped them onto his body, pinning him to the ground. His breath quickened, anxiety welling up inside of him at the feel of the smooth chains draped across his wrists, the back of his neck, his arms and shoulders. Another length of chain was draped across his calves and ankles. The only comfort he had was that in this position, it would be difficult for her to peg him within an inch of his life, as much as he did enjoy that perverse bit of debauchery.

But the snap of the cap on the lubricant just before the press of something blunt against his ass belied that thought. He swallowed a mewl of protest, knowing it would be that much worse for him if he tried to back out of this without his safe word. This was nothing yet, and the vague anxiety over the chains wasn't enough to make him want to end this.

It was a long glass dildo, smooth and jutting out of his rear like a deranged flagpole. Loki could see it when he turned his head to look, but he didn't understand how this was a punishment. His eyes flicked up toward Natasha's implacable expression, but she gave nothing away, not even when she lifted the riding crop again.

She brought the crop wordlessly down over his back and ass, layers of stripes that lit a fire under his skin and sent his blood singing. He lost count at fifty strokes, and felt himself nearly melting into the floor. Natasha kept count, however high it was, and tossed the crop aside when Loki felt relaxed despite the burn in his back and ass. With his eyes closed, he listened to the sound of her removing her boots, socks and leather pants. More lube, then there was the sensation of her kneeling down, straddling his waist. His eyes flew open and he turned his head to look at her again, wondering if this was over.

 _Oh._ She was coating the dildo, positioning it so that she could slide down its solid length, so that she could make eye contact with James the entire time. Natasha was using him as nothing more than a sex toy, one that would leave him with no pleasure at all.

Ah, how deliciously evil she could be. Of course this would be worse punishment for his casual cruelty when he was meant to be helpful.

It took an agonizing amount of time for her to reach her climax, and she lifted herself off of him without a care for his. She walked over to James and lifted his chin with her fingertips. Loki could make out the sensuous curve of her lips as she smiled warmly at him, and a spike of hot jealously shot through him. "You're done, I can tell," she told James, who did have a glazed look to his eyes. Kneeling beside him, she slowly and methodically undid all the knots in the rope and gently touched the marks they left behind. James shivered at her touch, leaned into her, his own lips sliding into a soft and generous smile. _"Милая моя,"_ she murmured.

My sweet. It must have been an in joke, because he chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to her still-clothed shoulder.

"Go get dressed," she told him. As he moved to comply, a lassitude in his limbs, Loki saw his smile as sweet and almost innocent. It certainly would fool anyone unaware of his identity as one of the most successful assassins in the world.

Natasha walked back to Loki, who hadn't moved from his prone position on the floor. He didn't even dare raise his eyes to take in the lean line of her legs, the slickness between her thighs. He remained still when she gracefully swept one leg out and grasped the dildo with her toes and unceremoniously tugged it out. Smothering a choking sound of disappointment, Loki shifted his gaze to the carpet. Soon enough, her toes came into view, and it was a struggle to keep his breathing even. Would she do something else? Would she count this as punishment enough for his sins? Or would he have to keep suffering?

But she removed the chains and put them away before coming back to him, still silent and moving with efficient, spare gestures. She nudged his shoulder with her toes, and he complied with her unspoken wish to roll over onto his back. His cock was only partially erect, and he looked up at her, sure his expression was one of desperation.

"You don't know what I want," she told him, voice even and soft. "You don't know what I'll do next. You know I find you wanting, you know there should be something you can do to get back into my good graces." Loki nodded when she paused.

"Remember this," she said quietly. "This is how Wanda feels as you teach her magic. Don't do more of this than you can help." Then a sharp nod to indicate she was through with him, and she gathered up her clothes to get dressed again.

That had left him feeling almost hollow and unfulfilled, but perhaps that was part of the point of the session. He had been kinder to Wanda in the intervening week, and she had certainly been practicing her copying skills. He switched her back to working on portals, which she seemed relieved by, and at least that was diverting.

In the meantime, he knew exactly how he would get even with Natasha.

Okay, that was possibly not the best way to think of it, but he couldn't help how he felt. That last session had been humiliating and unsatisfying, and lying to Natasha when they processed the scene afterward didn't help matters. She thought she was helping, and lying to her about it would only ruin the deal they had. But he seethed, pushing it down and away, and knew what he wanted to do with her. James wasn't allowed, and Loki suggested visiting somewhere in Brooklyn with Steve or Sam to rekindle old times. While James seemed touched by the thoughtful gesture, Loki knew it for the selfish act it was, and felt terrible. That was something else he could blame Natasha for, because he didn't feel things like that before her.

Once they were alone in the Astoria apartment, Loki established the wards and the opening to the session. Seeing Natasha's open expression and loose body language almost made him quail. She trusted him with this. She didn't use this time to get "even" as he was planning to do. The time was for him, to let him relinquish his tight hold on himself or to teach him some kind of lesson he needed to know.

But he itched to see what would happen. Maybe since his aim was less humiliation now and more inquisitive it wouldn't be so bad that he had nursed a grudge for a week. Natasha didn't know what he was thinking, after all.

So he cast his spells and then there were two separate Natasha Romanoffs in front of him, looking curious and a little dizzy. His mouth ran dry as two sets of green eyes landed on him, her wavy red hair framing her perfect face.

Oh, yes, he didn't want retaliation anymore. He just wanted _her._ And maybe if he was feeling generous, he could call James in at the end to play with the copy.

Loki gave her a slow, wicked smile. "Two of you to serve me. Two of you to give me pleasure," he said. "We'll see how well you can perform this task."

"What happens if we fail?" one of the two Natashas asked.

"And what constitutes failure?" the other asked.

Not insubordination, he realized after a flare of irritation. She was trying to get the parameters of his request. This was going to happen, and the Norns could strike him down but he wouldn't care one bit. He wanted this, and sauntered to the bedroom. "You are a clever girl. A clever pair of girls. You know what I like. Don't fail me."

Lying on the bed, one sucked his cock while the other played with his balls and massaged his ass. She then moved in to start rimming him, making him groan in appreciation. He grasped the head of the copy sucking on his cock, not sure if it was the original Natasha or her double. Did it matter? They did have the same appearance, same skills, same memories. When the spell ran its course and they collapsed back into the same person, she would have both sets of memories for this particular encounter. Would she enjoy it was much as he did? Was she feeling the same sensations at the same time? He sometimes did when he copied himself and gave each copy a bit of weight from his own _spá._

He couldn't stop himself from grasping the hair and holding the head in place as he fucked her mouth, growing more and more desperate. The other copy was sliding the tip of her tongue into his hole, nails lightly scratching a spot behind his balls that made him want to writhe and coil up into a tight ball of pleasure.

Hovering close to orgasm, Loki pulled a thread of magic and sent it into his body so that he wouldn't immediately come and would be able to get hard again. Natasha knew he cheated, since both copies jerked as the magic filled him. He wondered if it stung her, or simply startled her. He reveled in the fell of both mouths on him, both sets of hands. Ultimately, even the magic enhancements couldn't help him stay erect. He came spurting into one Natasha's mouth, grunting and falling back to the bed. She swallowed, and climbed up on top of him to ride him as his cock sprang back to life. The other Natasha pulled back and moved onto the bed to lean over his sprawled torso to lick and suck at one of his flat nipples. After a while, the combination of one Natasha over him and one licking him felt almost too much. He yanked the second Natasha from his torso and brought her up to his mouth kissing her deeply and licking into her mouth. It only occurred to him afterward where her mouth had been, but he couldn't taste anything on her tongue or lips.

"I want to taste you," he growled when he pushed her away from his mouth. This would make him look submissive to them, but he didn't care about the outward appearance anymore. He just wanted her, all of her, all at once.

"Of course," she purred, fingers running over his chest to caress him.

He was probably addicted to the taste and feel of her, but couldn't bring himself to care. Licking into her was calming, as much as that probably sounded ridiculous. Hearing her mewl in pleasure or gasp at a particularly good lick made him feel powerful. Her pleasure was given at his whim, his intent. Some days it was easier to fall under her spell, but today was supposed to be what he wanted her to do. But then, telling her to satisfy his needs was still dominating, right? Right?

Once the Natasha over his mouth came, he pushed her hips up and over, indicating without words that he was done. The Natasha riding his cock had already come at least once, and possibly was gearing up again. She was fingering herself as she rode him, and watching her do that was hot. Loki reached up to fondle her breasts, making her gasp and clench down hard on his cock. He sucked in a breath, then decided he wanted her beneath him, looking up at him and gasping for breath.

It was a slight tangle of limbs to flip her onto her back while keeping his cock inside her. The other Natasha rose from the bed and rifled through the drawers of sex toys, ultimately choosing a double ended dildo that didn't have a harness. She fitted it inside herself easily, then slicked her fingers with lube. Loki grinned down at the Natasha beneath him, feral and needy and not caring if the smile bothered her at all. He _wanted_ this, a fierce and greedy ache clutching at his insides with a familiar ferocity. Natasha was his, all his, and this moment was all about him and what he wanted. She was over him and beneath him and all around him, and catering to his whims, and in that moment he felt he could contain all the power in the known universe.

The Natasha behind him slid her slicked fingers into his hole and pumped them in and out, sliding her fingers over that sensitive spot inside him that made his toes curl. _Yes,_ he wanted to say, but growled instead. The Natasha beneath him scratched his chest and back as her hands roamed over the skin she could reach, and the Natasha behind him moved her fingers to make room for the dildo inside her. When it slid all the way inside him, he nearly howled in pleasure, the sharp burst feeling like electricity lighting him up from the inside out. One Natasha fucked him and he fucked the other one, and there was no need to think at all.

Afterward, he laid on the bed, sprawled out and feeling content. His limbs felt all loose and feather light, almost as if they didn't belong to him anymore. Both of the Natasha copies tenderly cleaned him up and stroked his skin, murmuring soft phrases in Russian that complimented his skill and prowess. Were those lies or embellished truths? Did it matter? He felt like the god he was, as if this was his due as ruler of Midgard.

Eventually, the euphoria would fade, and he would simply be the trickster figure hired on intermittently and kept on a leash to keep from destroying everything in his path. Eventually, he would feel diseased and empty again, desperate to cling to whatever he could in order to feel whole. Eventually, he would doubt the caring that his companions showed him.

But for now, he was content, and that was all that mattered.

***

Wanda pressed her lips together and tried pulling her hands apart, concentration focusing on creating a portal. She was working with a simple one at the moment, moving from her suite to the kitchen. That took a lot less concentration than to try to open a portal to Asgard, and opening one repeatedly might get her or Pietro in trouble. He was thrilled with the training he was getting, at the ability he had in physically fighting and protecting others. She had always known he was talented and important, but it mattered to hear it from others, too. As the little sister by twelve minutes, she was supposed to look up to him.

Hearing Loki talk about spell weaving could be confusing, especially when he started in on the lensing effects of magic. She generally tuned that out and ignored the theory of these particular spells. They were largely the same as all the books and scrolls she had read on Asgard. Why waste her time going over it again? The whole point of being here and working with Loki and Marissa Tourney was to learn practical magic, to put the theory into use. Why bother endlessly talking if there was no purpose to it? She wanted to know _how_ to weave it together, not just hear that she should do it a particular way. Every magic practitioner had their own way of putting together spells, after all.

Wrenching open the portal from one end of the tower to the other, Wanda giggled a little and stepped through it. The portal was still open behind her, revealing her room instead of the kitchen counter. She hopped back and forth across the boundary, one foot in either place, even doing a little victory shimmy and dancing. It was person sized, it was stable, it worked well and hardly took any effort to maintain. _Perfect._

In the middle of a hop back and forth across the rooms, Wanda noticed a gust of wind rising in the corner of the kitchen. It seemed to be a swirling oval roughly the same size and shape as her own portal, but across the room from it.

A man stepped out of the hazy wind. He was rather tall, with black hair graying at the temples and dark eyes in a forbidding looking face. His pants were black, and the main part of his shirt was as well. His black boots had a stripe of yellow at the top of them, telling her where they ended, and the fabric belt at his waist was bright blood red, gathered by a golden buckle with the ends trailing down halfway to his knees. The seams at the center of his shirt were also the same bright red. His cloak was bright red edged in the same stripe of golden yellow as the stripe on his boots, with a collar that flared out from the gold eye medallion at his chest up until his ears. It was a rather dramatic getup, and made her wonder if the bright red leotard and tights with red cape her brother had teased her with would be accepted by his ilk.

"You are Wanda Maximoff," the man said, his voice deep and commanding. The presence he gave off was one of scary competence.

"You must be Dr. Stephen Strange," Wanda replied, not yet willing to confirm her identity to this stranger. "Marissa mentioned you." As well as the nasty older woman who had refused to train her and her "created" skills.

The man paused, looking her over in a calculated but not haughty manner. "Marissa doesn't often take pupils," he said. Some of the overtly aggressive posturing softened in his stance.

"The old ladies at their club didn't want me joining in," Wanda replied, not quite able to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

He seemed amused by that. "No, they wouldn't. They didn't approve of my ascension to Sorcerer Supreme, either. But then, it's likely because their opinion hadn't been asked for."

"Yeah, they seemed the type. And Marissa wasn't going to leave me floundering."

"She is wise in the ways of magic. Some of her knowledge is in very old, very esoteric skills, spells lost to the ages."

"Oh." Wanda was nonplused by that. "Um... I taught her how to see the _spá,"_ she said, inwardly smug when he didn't seem to understand what that was. "My first formal training was on Asgard with Queen Frigga and her handmaidens."

That definitely threw him. "I see. They wouldn't understand dimensional travel as I know it, then," he said in a musing tone. "That changes things a little."

"What does?"

His expression hardened into a stern warning. It reminded her of Baron von Strucker before the electric shocks had come, but she refused to back down. Sorcerer Supreme or not, if Dr. Strange did anything out of turn, she would rip apart his _spá_ to defend herself.

"Your practice of magic has drawn the attention of other dimensions. Worlds with demons and foul creatures that would want nothing more than to devour you whole. They know of this place, and I've worked so hard to protect it and ward it from such attention."

It took a moment of stunned silence for Wanda to realize why he looked so stern. "You thought I did it deliberately!"

"Your magic is not entirely of this world. Others have sought to open dimensional portals."

Her portal was still behind her, so Wanda flung her arm through it. "That's my room, genius. Or I've built them to talk to my brother on Asgard. I'm a student of these arts. I'm not working with demons or anything foul. Unless you count Loki, but he's just an arrogant bastard."

Dr. Strange's lips twitched in amusement. "I met him once. Didn't seem arrogant at the time, but taking apart the Essine Ruby is hardly easy work."

"The what?"

"A ruby of untold power that had been layered with such complicated spells that it became a prison world ruled by Nightmare, the nephew of the demon Dormammu. And that demon is just one of many that would wish to devour this world and take its energies for its own."

Wanda opened and then shut her mouth. "Take its energies how?"

He crossed his arms as he frowned at her. "Why?"

"They think I'm stupid or distracted or something. But I know Loki was upset by some of his magic practitioner friends dying. Humans, not Asgardians. Not part of that old lady coven in Alphabet City and TriBeCa."

Now his expression was one of concern. "Where?"

"I don't know. I just overheard him talking about the morgue and seeing a few friends there, all energy gone. Even the bacteria that should've been alive was dead. Which is just gross thinking about," she added with a shudder.

Dr. Strange let out a slow breath, the concern in his expression now scaring her. "This is... not good. Very not good. We'll need to get all the covens together, all the major practitioners of this world, then. Very few demons or extradimensional creatures do that kind of absorption."

"Wait... You mean that was a deliberate killing? Not just them committing suicide or having a heart attack or something? They were pretty old..." She trailed off at the dark expression on his face. "You do mean it was deliberate."

"Yes, I do. This happened before, according to the oldest tomes I've been able to study. The entire world of Galatia slowly died, as if suffocated. They could do no more than lie down as the energy was siphoned right out of their bodies. Even animals and plants died."

Wanda shivered and stepped forward enough to shut the portal to her room. Wrapping her arms around herself, she looked at him uncertainly. "So now what?"

"I will have to show you the way I make portals. It avoids the notice of such creatures," he said with finality. He gave her a grim smile at her start of surprise. "I am not heartless. You can still speak with your brother and train. But we cannot have you siphoning off such incredible amounts of power to fuel these simple spells. Your control is rather atrocious. I wonder why Loki and Marissa didn't notice it."

Blinking in surprise, she tightened her hold on herself. "I did smaller spells with them. Working on form or something. I did bigger ones on my own as practice."

"It's drawn the wrong kind of attention." He waved his hand to the side of them, and a new whirling portal opened. "Let's meet with Marissa and contact the downtown covens. From there, we'll plan our approach."

"Loki should know about this..."

"He will. But he's better able to care for himself than the much more fragile practitioners here."

Because they were human and Loki wasn't. Because his magic was different, and possibly less likely to draw in more attention.

Still shivering, Wanda stepped through the portal after Dr. Strange.

***

It was stupid, but Loki found himself invisible and trailing after Natasha and James. He had overheard them making plans together in the den, where she had been reading a book with her feet on his lap and he had been massaging them. James mentioned one of the markets he had gone to with Steve, surprised that they were still able to go largely unnoticed walking around the city if they weren't in an Avengers uniform. Natasha had laughed, an easy sound that she didn't have with Loki. Perhaps that was what triggered the jealousy. She wiggled her toes in James' hands and poked at his crotch playfully, snickering at his reaction. James muttered something under his breath in Russian that Loki hadn't been able to catch, which had made Natasha laugh again. "Oh, fine. Why not go see a movie, then? There was one at the Angelika that I was thinking about going to, if you don't mind art house fare."

"Mostly foreign films, right?" James had replied, shifting closer to her on the couch. At her nod, he plucked the book from her grasp. "Might be fun."

"And theaters are dark."

"So if the moving picture's a bust, I can just swing my arm around like so—" Here he had leaned over and pulled her to sit beside him, his arm around her shoulders. "And there's good old fashioned necking. I hear I'm pretty good at it."

"Oh, have I told you that? I must have been mistaken..." She began in a lofty tone as he began nuzzling and kissing her neck. His other arm moved out of Loki's line of sight, possibly to fondle her as they kissed.

The two did exactly what they said they were going to do. Of course there wouldn't be artifice in the plan, and Loki felt like a heel for suspecting them of hiding their true intent. James put some kind of flesh colored fabric over the metal arm and then a long sleeved shirt despite the warm weather. Tony Stark would have improved the cooling system for the mechanics, but it surprised Loki that there wasn't some way to hide its metal appearance. There was the possibility that James didn't want to hide its presence on a regular basis, but concealing the arm would go a long way in allowing him to pass undetected in crowds.

Maybe as penance, he could work on a charm that made the arm appear like his flesh and blood one. He could even rope Wanda into helping him with it. Concealment charms were rather useful spells to learn, after all.

He really had to stop suspecting Natasha and James of nefarious plans when together. James had no desire to harm anyone in the Tower, and worked hard to contain his nightmares and anxieties throughout the day. He deserved special time with Natasha, and the opportunity to behave as an ordinary man.

***  
***


	4. Devastation

The delicious draw of magic to the Midgard realm slowed to a trickle, but Selene already knew there was magic on the realm. Another little sip from its edges drew her in, but the taste seemed almost altered somehow, as if practitioners were hiding themselves.

 _Interesting._ Did they somehow know of her existence?

Oh, having a fight on her hands would be _lovely,_ and would give her a reprieve from the boredom that plagued her. It had been so long since she had a chance to really _play,_ and that world had hardly put up a fight. It was hard for them to, given that she could siphon off life force as well as magical energy, and the entire planet had slowly succumbed to her will. That had served as warning enough to other worlds, but over millennia even that had been forgotten.

It might be good for the cosmos to have a reminder of her skill.

***

"I think we have something," Jane announced over breakfast.

"Your dark matter project?" Natasha asked politely, passing milk over to Clint for his cereal. She and James had pancakes with maple syrup and no butter, Loki hadn't arrived yet, Darcy and Jane had opted for bagels, Bruce had oatmeal, Steve had a stack of waffles with syrup and butter, Sif had an equally tall stack, and Thor had both waffles and pancakes. Wanda had stopped in the kitchen long enough to get a muffin from the pantry before heading out to meet with Dr. Strange and Marissa Tourney downtown for more lessons. Tony and Pepper hadn't arrived yet, but no one really expected them in the common dining area for breakfast. Half of the time, Pepper had a piece of toast and a mug of coffee before flying out the door at five am to head to her office on the tenth floor, and Tony would take a fistful of vitamins along with black coffee and call it breakfast before heading into the workshop.

"Actually, no. The magic sensor array, for lack of a better term for it. Between the data we have on Loki, Frigga, Wanda and Dr. Strange, we probably have enough to extrapolate a working tracker for any and all magic users."

"It's like tracking a certain form of radiation," Bruce said.

"So we can see if it's really as odd as Wanda said it was supposed to be," Jane added. She smiled at Thor's generous syrup portion and gently removed it before he could finish the rest of the bottle, which Steve had just opened that morning. He simply grinned at her impishly and bumped her shoulder in recognition before tucking into his food.

"Well, we could always ask Loki," Natasha replied. "She's got her lessons and he's still around here somewhere. Maybe hiding in his office studying something."

"If we have to..." Jane began uncertainly.

"He has been most civil," Thor offered, a hopeful expression on his face. "There is much he would lie about, and we cannot trust all things, but he has never been false about his skill with magic. It's a point of pride with him."

"Especially when it was not so with us," Sif agreed.

"And I will kick his ass if he starts acting like a little shit," Natasha added. She paused and thought for a moment. "Well, more than he usually does, anyway."

"You could always just hit him anyway," Clint said helpfully, smiling at Natasha. "You know, like a preemptive strike or something."

"He's sad," Darcy said as she elbowed him in the ribs. She shot him an innocent look when he yelped in surprise. "I mean, still a potentially murderous psychopath, but sad."

"That's still my brother," Thor intoned, frowning.

"Doesn't mean he's not a douchebag when he wants to be," Clint replied. "You know that much."

Thor sighed and nodded. "Well, yes, but... He's helped you. He helped save Asgard. There are other things to him than those foul thoughts and nasty tricks."

"He respects magic and Natasha," Bruce said in the resulting awkward silence. "Maybe James, too. At least he doesn't seem willing to taunt him."

"Well, if he's a dick to the love of Nat's life, she'll kill him," Clint said before finishing his cereal.

Natasha only shrugged when the others stared at her. "Well, I did say I'd put him down if he crossed over the line too far to come back from. He found it comforting."

Jane gaped at her. "How is this any kind of normal?"

"It isn't," Natasha replied with another shrug. "But it keeps him in check, even if I'm not physically there to oversee it. We have an arrangement."

"And you are a very stern mistress," Sif said, giving her an approving nod.

Her smile actually had an impish quality to it. "I can be."

"Am I the only one having really disgusting, smutty thoughts about that right now?" Darcy asked with a frown. "Because isn't it a little too early in the morning to be wallowing in the gutter like this? Not that I'm complaining too much, but it's early yet."

Natasha only chuckled and finished off her own breakfast. "I didn't say anything."

"Your smile," Darcy said, pointing at her with the last bit of her bagel. "Definitely naughty."

"Nobody ever said I was _good,"_ Natasha pointed out.

"Plenty do," Darcy corrected airily, which visibly surprised Natasha. "C'mon, surely you see all the Avenger fan forums online?" At her head shake, Darcy tried again. "News outlets?"

"I try to avoid those. There aren't very good things on there most of the time."

"Well, they have the baby superheroes all over the country on the news. There's a dude in Hell's Kitchen and a chick named Jewel that seems pretty cool. And a vigilante haunting Harlem and Spanish Harlem kicking ass. Most of the commentators think they're following in your footsteps. You know, rad superspy that's still human hanging with the powered crowd and doing a fantastic job of it. People look up to you."

Clint gave her a shoulder bump. "What? You didn't think I was joking about that? Or May?"

"I suppose I did," Natasha said slowly.

"Well, that's just silly," Jane said, shaking her head. "You're definitely a hero. And I can say that, because I'm a Scivenger, remember?" she said with a grin at her.

Natasha couldn't help but laugh. "All right, all right. Point taken. I'll hero up and see what got Loki in a snit, and then if he plays nice, he ought to help you with your magic sensor."

Jane brightened as Bruce merely shrugged. It would take more than a few promises to get Loki back on his good side, but Jane was more hopeful of the two anyway. She sincerely wanted to get the sensor array calibrated just right, and she also hoped that Loki and Thor continued to have their détente. She and Thor hadn't seriously talked about their future, but eventually they were going to have to. No matter where they lived, Loki was bound to be part of it.

***

"So," Natasha began, leading Loki into the dining area with their lunches. "Jane and Bruce have been trying to work on their magic sensors. It would be nice if you helped them."

"I suppose," he replied listlessly.

"It would go a long way in proving you still have good intentions toward this realm. You've been a jealous little shit lately."

He frowned at her, grip tightening on his tray. She recalled his blank look at Clint's teasing that they were in some kind of superpowered high school once the others had moved in. The Tower was full of people at any given time now. It was kind of nice, since there were people to talk to and spend time with yet it was large enough to still have space for quiet talks and silent spaces. Some habits died hard, even as she tried to reach out more.

"I thought we worked things out. You aren't jealous of James, you said."

"I'm not. Most of the time," Loki mumbled, sliding into a seat at the table.

Natasha sat and faced him, and thought about the simple fare they had. "Would you rather go out to lunch, then? Did you want more time alone with me?"

Now his lips thinned. "I'm not some mealy mouthed child. I exist to do more than hang on your every whim."

"Well, then, what is it? What's the matter?"

He blew out an irritated and frustrated breath. "I am... unsettled."

"Have more people you know died?"

"No. But I am aware that your searches yielded more. Magic is dying, and that is no small feat."

"And probably terrifying."

Loki looked at her, irritation, fear and helplessness in his expression before he masked it in indifference. "I can escape any terror that comes to this realm."

"And the rest of us would still be here. We'd feel it."

"You're not a practitioner."

"There's magic in me now, isn't there? Healing factors you and Hel gave me, whatever potions or spells or whatever."

If anything, that made him blanch and push away his tray. "You will not die. You cannot die."

"Loki," Natasha began with a sigh.

His expression hardened and he sat up straight from his slouch and drew his tray back. He ate his sandwich in jerky bites, not looking at her. "You haven't needed me to help you with your forays into the harsher parts of the city."

"Gangs and junkies and complete wastes of space. Nothing important. It isn't SHIELD work, something more like a hobby. James and Clint did it with me when bored, but it's not a big thing you have to help out with."

"Because you have others to aid you," he replied, a harsh tone to his voice.

Natasha sighed. "There are also wannabe super heroes walking the streets now that we're around," she replied with a shrug. "Some are okay to work with, actually. Police have their hands full, and a number of them have been helpful. But that's not the part of it that I want. I don't care if they help or not, as long as they don't hinder me. Sometimes I still think I work better alone. I don't have to adjust plans for other people, at least."

"Your spy background is showing," he snarked at her, that harsh tone still evident.

"Yes, it is," she agreed, not rising to his bait. "And I do this to balance my ledger. Not because I have to, but because I can and I want to."

That seemed to shame him to silence. They finished their meal in silence, and Natasha touched his arm gently. "Hey, let's get out of the Tower. Maybe you're just cooped up. We'll head downtown, maybe go to one of the galleries."

Loki visibly brightened at the suggestion, making Natasha think that perhaps he still worried about approaching others for companionship. He had such pride and such a horrible lonely streak, and it tore him inside out in destructive ways.

Walking from Midtown seemed to help Loki loosen up a bit. "I hadn't realized that there was a device they were creating to track magic," Loki said finally. Natasha declined to mention the tracking app that Tony had put on her phone and nodded to indicate she was listening. "It could possibly help with what's happening to Midgard. It makes no sense for the people that act as magicians on this realm to die. I can't find any mention of a creature that would do such a thing in the texts I have. I have even sent Mother a request to search her older tomes, but I haven't heard back from her yet."

Natasha managed not to grin at him. Calling Frigga his mother again? She would take that as a vast improvement in his attitude toward Asgard. True, it was probably borne out of desperation and not actual affection, but he was a proud thing that wouldn't admit to any actual affection anyway. She was sure Frigga would accept it.

She steered them toward Chelsea, intending to go to the Agora Gallery. "I'm sure you just need a break. It was like that with the other magic stuff, wasn't it? On Asgard and trying to get those magic rings. You start getting so overfocused, you lose sight of what you're intending to do."

He frowned at her, just a slight downturn of his mouth. "Don't belittle the power of those rings. They are quite the corrupting influence."

"I remember," she murmured, nodding. "Which is why I want to make sure you'll be all right with this magic search of yours. If you keep going without saying anything—"

"I won't harm you," Loki replied tightly, not meeting her eyes. "You shouldn't stay near me if I ever do become like that. I value your life above mine."

She never would have thought he would say such a thing five years ago. He had come such a long way in some respects, and hardly at all in others.

Catching hold of his hand, she squeezed tightly. "You don't have to be alone, you know. It doesn't have to be that way." When he gave her an arch look, she smiled. "What? I've been trying to play nice with others. Talk. All of that camaraderie stuff. It does work."

"I suppose," Loki said slowly. "I am unused to such thing."

"Practice," Natasha told him gravely. "Even being around people can take work."

"What's the term for that? Misanthropist?" he asked wryly.

"If it fits..." she replied in a teasing tone.

His reply was cut off by a _frisson_ of magic to the right of them. He tugged Natasha to a stop beside him, and she wondered if this was how his magic using associates had met their end. She wasn't even armed to the hilt, just her gauntlets and a blade in her boot. Those wouldn't have been ridiculous measures if she was up against ordinary mortals, but what could be killing magic users without setting off wards and alarms?

The magic seemed to take form and shape, looking almost like a portal made of wind and smoke swirling. It was different from the slashing through air motion that Loki usually used, or the wavering consistency to the air as if looking through hot air over pavement on a summer day. She was on alert, both hands free now, ready to make use of the gauntlets.

The swirling wind and smoke gradually resolved into an actual portal, and Wanda's head popped through it. She looked to the left and right of her, eyes wide as if startled. "Oh! I got it to work, then!" she exclaimed, surprised joy in her tone.

"What is this atrocity of magic?" Loki snapped, gesturing toward it. "This is inelegant, far too noticeable, and in direct contrast to the _seidr_ I've been teaching you!"

The wind and smoke resolved further, until Wanda's entire body was visible. Behind her was Dr. Strange, looking pensive. Natasha wasn't a particular fan of the cape and gaudy looking golden eye medallion, but kept her thoughts to herself. Strange was a man renowned for his skills and his ability to protect the Earth from random dimensions and monsters. That was nothing she had ever trained for, and not a responsibility she wanted to take on more of.

"There are troubling currents of magic," Dr. Strange told him gravely. "I need you to come with me _right now._ It could be of dire consequence," he insisted.

"I was planning to spend time with Natasha—"

"Bring her too, then," Wanda said earnestly, all wide eyed and eager to see magic at play. It wasn't that she was looking forward to seeing what concerned Dr. Strange, exactly, but she was so eager to learn more that it didn't occur to her to wonder _why_ he was so concerned with what was coming that he wanted Loki's help.

"I'll just get in the way," Natasha demurred.

"Just get them over here!" Marissa Tourney cried from somewhere behind them, voice sharp and irritable. "She can stand in the back or get an athame or something!"

That overrode Dr. Strange's concerns, so the two of them walked through the portal into a large, open area that seemed like the interior of an old Victorian manor. Natasha had heard that the Sanctum Sanctorum had been located downtown, but wasn't sure where because of the spells that kept it hidden away from nonmagical people. That was just fine with her; she could bust heads up in Harlem or the Upper East Side if she got bored.

They were in a large room that seemed almost like a temple. The ceiling was high and sloped, indicating this was a top floor or attic, and an overlarge window above them was circular, with sweeping lines through it. Probably a sigil of power, given what Natasha knew of magic through Loki. Surrounding them were tall shelves stuffed full of books, most of which appeared to be written in arcane symbols. There were also chests and boxes with ornate decorations on them, more carvings and symbols to denote power of some kind. She could see other odd items, things that looked like bowls, blades, chalices, orbs, gems larger than her fist, blocks with carvings, a disembodied hand, jars with strange animals or body parts in them, and one massive jar that looked to have a black cloud with glittering stars hovering inside of it.

"Where are we?" she asked, taking it all in around her.

"177A Bleecker Street," Strange replied.

"That's your townhouse," Natasha said. She had often been accused of memorizing the entirety of SHIELD's databases. Well, she didn't memorize it, but often the archives made for interesting reading. And it was always full of random but useful tidbits of information.

Strange nodded and lifted an arm in a sweeping gesture around them. "Welcome to the Sanctum Sanctorum." His gaze rested on the circular window. "We're safe here. The Window of Worlds will block out our presence from whatever is hunting magic users."

Ah, a seal of protection of some kind, like Loki's warding spells. She could deal with that.

Loki gazed hungrily at all of the magical artifacts in the room. "This is a rather exquisite collection," he said. "I can feel the weight of age and power here."

Wanda was grinning at him, her excitement clearly evident. "I understand why Queen Frigga thought of him as an instructor, too. The magic here is just as strong as it is in your office, but it feels different. It would be a completely different way of casting magic, not quite _seidr,_ but a touch of _galdr_ and with a splash of _spá_ thrown in just to make it a complete mess of magic. It's _wonderful."_

She calmed under his quelling gaze, and Natasha hid her grin. Maybe she had once felt joy like that, the unadulterated pleasure of discovery. Now there was always that sense in the back of her mind that it would be useful someday. The secrets she collected would stay locked in her mind, and at some point, she could find a way to make it useful. It was different from learning for the sheer fun of it.

Marissa Tourney was at one of the desks in the open space, next to an open collection of tomes and sheets of rolled parchment. Natasha was almost surprised she wasn't dressed in oversized robes or writing with a quill, but was taking notes on a tablet and checking between several of the larger books. Beyond her was one of the shadowy portals of smoke, and through it Natasha could see another large and open space. Seven old women sat in it, different ethnicities and dress, but all with shockingly white hair and eyes blacked over as they sat in a semicircle around a rose quartz globe the size of a steering wheel floating in midair. On the other side of their circle were several other shadow portals, other groups sitting in large open spaces.

If Natasha had to guess, they were funneling some kind of magic spell or energy into the Sanctum Sanctorum.

"Is this safe?" she asked Marissa anxiously.

"All the major covens are represented. They're scrying the knowledge of their ancestors, their libraries, their artifacts. A magic vampire like this would have shown up before. Something had to have woken it up."

"But what's the plan here? How can I help?"

Marissa's gaze wasn't exactly pitying, but Natasha knew she wouldn't be able to help in a truly discernible way. "We're building a cage." Her gaze went to the open floor of the sanctuary, markings chalked into place, votives and herbs arranged into a series of sigils. Natasha realized that the circle was fairly wide, and was placed in such a way that the moonlight coming in through the large overhead window would eventually fall directly onto the circular trap.

"You're building a trap out of magic for a creature that eats it?"

Now the gaze was condescending. "There's no such thing."

"Loki said that whatever we're dealing with sucked all magic and living energy out of those corpses. Even bacteria died. There have been notices of this happening all over the world, pockets of magic users just dropping dead. What else can I call it?"

"It could have been the drain of their spell work. Magic cannot be cast without cost, Miss Romanoff. It's mental, but sometimes physical. It's willpower made manifest, and it sometimes needs physical ties in order to do so."

Natasha had known that much from watching Loki and seeing the effects of his spells. She had known that much from the oils that Hel had given her years ago for Loki. Magic followed rules, and there were similar ones to the physical realm: for every action, there was an equal and opposite reaction. Magic couldn't exist independently of the world. It _was_ the world, the very essence of life and energy.

If she had been told years ago that she would think this way, she would have laughed her ass off. Right now, the joke wasn't very funny.

Marissa went back to perusing one of the tomes and making a notation in the tablet. "I suppose you can help with the note taking?"

Suppressing a sigh, she reached out for the tablet. "Show me how you're annotating it, and then this can go a little faster."

The two of them worked together over the next hour, moonlight slowly creeping across the floor to match the trap. Marissa, Strange, Wanda and Loki placed themselves at the cardinal directions around the circle, and Natasha stayed off to the side to take notes on the tablet regarding the success of the spell. She suspected that any backlash would then cause feedback into the other covens across the globe, so she kept silent and didn't interrupt them. When not needed to pay attention, she let her eyes linger over the odd artifacts and books around the room. The darkness glittering with stars in a jar caught her attention, and she bent down to eye level to take a look at it closely, taking care not to touch it in any way.

Eyes that weren't her reflection seemed to stare back at her. They blinked, then seemed to crinkle as if a face was smiling at her in a sinister manner.

She stepped away quickly and then went back to observing the power circle.

It wasn't obvious when the casting started, but it certainly was obvious when the spell began its effects. As soon as the moonlight met the circle, the candles flared to life, the flames three to four inches high and barely flickering. The herbs also caught fire, a controlled, inch high flame in the shape of those sacred sigils. The air inside the circle thickened with smoke that reminded Natasha of Doctor Strange's portals, and the air around them was pungent and almost soothing from the fragrance. It reminded her of the herbs Frigga had once given her to travel to Helheim without losing her soul in the process.

Something formed inside the circle, a vaguely humanoid shape. Then it seemed as though the shape filled out, took form like a mannequin curled in a fetal ball. Long, straight black hair sprouted from her head, falling to her waist. Features filled in, a beautiful and tall woman with lithe features, a flat stomach, generous breasts and long toes and fingers. Her nose led to a classically patrician profile, and her skin was as white as bleached paper, with no hair on her body other than eyebrows and the hair on her head. She was completely naked, and for all intents and purposes looked human. 

The woman rose, her eyes completely white. "Through all the centuries, I've never had anyone track me – when I didn't want them to." Her voice was deep, resonating inside of Natasha's skull before she laughed. Natasha dimly saw Strange and Marissa wince. Wanda fell to her knees and Loki swayed on his feet. "Unfortunately, you won't be alive long enough to share what you've learned with anyone else."

Whimpering a little, Wanda's hands twitched from where she knelt behind this figure. "I know who you are," she whispered. Her eyes seemed to glow scarlet, but surely it was only a trick of candlelight. Right?

The woman turned, a smirk on her face. "Do you, little child?"

"Selene Gallio," Wanda said. _"I see you."_

"The last time I was summoned, Marcus Domitius Gallio thought he would wed me. Is that what this little ceremony is? Pathetic."

It sounded like an ancient Roman name to Natasha. That gave her pause, and she prodded at the words resounding inside her mind. Selene wasn't speaking in English or Russian or any of the other languages that she knew. Natasha simply knew the shape of her thoughts and the intention of what she wanted to say. Her own mind supplied the translation. She could only assume it was the same for the others.

Taking in the clothing styles of the people around her, Selene fashioned a black bustier, tight black leggings, knee high heeled boots and a long black cape out of magic. She looked down in derision at the assemblage, lips twisting in scorn.

In front of Selene, a dim shape started to take form as she opened her mouth to speak. It was a ghostly female figure with long, dark black hair, blank white face, empty eye sockets and gaping, lipless and toothless mouth. It looked like she was born of shadow, and when she lifted an arm up, black smoke trailed down from the upraised arm, reaching out.

Selene batted it away, reducing it to smoke. Then she stepped past the confines of the circle.

The backlash of power was immediate. Strange, Marissa, Loki and Wanda were pushed to their feet. The smoky portals that Natasha had seen slammed shut, one after another, desperate screams of pain from the other covens abruptly cut off.

"Oh boy," Natasha muttered under her breath, stepping back. She was _so_ out of her element here. She really shouldn't have come with Loki.

"Mmmm. I can almost taste the magic here. _It's mine."_

_No._

For good or ill, this world needed Loki alive and in command of his magic. It needed Wanda at the height of her training. It needed Doctor Strange and his knowledge of battling multiple dimensions and demons. It needed Marissa Tourney and her skill with magic and ability to cross reference innumerable tomes and build a database. What it didn't necessarily need was another spy, just another melee fighter that would simply fall as cannon fodder.

All this flashed through Natasha's mind in an instant.

She stepped into Selene's view, blocking out the others. Blocking out the rising wails from Loki, she lifted her chin and stared at Selene. "I'm the one you want."

The immortal being looked at Natasha critically, then extended one of her pale hands. Her eyes flooded black, a tinge of red in the center to hint at an iris. Selene's presence seemed to crackle with energy, which was uncomfortable on Natasha's skin. When Selene's hand touched her, there was a sting like electricity, a shock over every portion of their connection. It closed around her throat, softly, gently, almost like a lover's caress. Loki's screams had been abruptly cut off, as if a hand had closed over his mouth. Natasha closed her eyes as Selene leaned in closer, lips hovering just inches from Natasha's.

"There's magic in you," Selene said, lips stretching to the side in a grimace. "I didn't think the Runestaff on this pathetic realm could generate the magic in you. But here I stand corrected, and you offer yourself up to me so sweetly."

"If you take me," Natasha said calmly, opening her eyes and looking into Selene's black ones, "then you leave this realm."

"Oh, mistress," Selene crooned. Her essence seemed to smell like the herbs that Strange had placed into the circle. "Your death will only be the start of it. Until the Runestaff is drained dry, until the hunger is sated and I can breathe for a time." Her laughter was eerie, feeling like nails raked down a chalkboard. "The petty sips I've taken so far have done nothing but whet my appetite. It all begins with you."

Selene breathed in, lips parting and revealing her razor sharp teeth. Natasha felt a _rip_ inside her chest, as if something was being pulled out of her bones and out through her skin. Selene was breathing in the magic bound within her body, unraveling the bond that Loki had put into her, that Lady Hel had strengthened, the healing spells that Frigga had given her, the calming ones that Wanda had thought would help. Everything was coming undone, her entire body was unraveling, her soul was being unwound.

She couldn't even scream. It was an eternity in the space of fifteen seconds, and then her body fell uselessly to the ground.

Loki _roared_ in fury and pain, the temperature around them plummeting toward absolute zero. Doctor Strange had to create a portal when Wanda couldn't shake Loki out of it. Marissa flew through it, casting something as she moved. Strange grabbed Wanda's arm and bodily heaved her through the portal, then shut it behind him. Meanwhile, Loki kept screaming, the air forming jagged icicles all around them, clinging to his skin, turning it blue, and raining down shards shaped like daggers. They cut into Selene, ripping her skin to ribbons, but melted before shredding Natasha's crumpled body.

Furious, Selene had to siphon off her magic to repair her physical body and step _sideways_ into the Void to escape the assault. She would return.

In the meantime, Loki gathered up Natasha in his arms and _howled,_ feeling like an impotent monster, as if the universe had shattered.

Natasha was dead. And as far as he was concerned, the entire universe had just come to an end.

The End


End file.
